


The Younger Brother

by SMbookworm26



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, Hidden Powers, Uncertain Fate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMbookworm26/pseuds/SMbookworm26
Summary: This is the story of Alexander. Ordinary boy by every definition: not a genius, not a criminal, not memorable in any way. This is the story that documents his involvement in every minor incident, secret operation, or cataclysmic event where the name "Artemis Fowl" pops up. This is the story that explains how he went from ordinary boy to anything but, and why it was not told sooner.





	1. Foreword

Between April 2001 and July 2012, a series of eight books were published detailing the early exploits of Irish criminal prodigy Artemis Fowl. However, as declassified narratives these accounts were heavily edited, and omitted several details. 

One such detail is Alex. 

Alexander Apollon Fowl was the second-born Fowl don, Artemis’s junior by a little over three years. His existence and involvement in his brother’s schemes and misadventures were initially concealed from the underworld media in order to protect his identity and to buy the LEP time to answer a handful of unusual questions surrounding him. 

The truth of the matter is that through every operation or world-saving mission, Alex was right by his brother’s side. What you are reading is a record documenting his participation in the eight adventures you already know. Along with the development of his talents—a number of which could redefine the People’s understanding of magic and blur the lines between human and fairy. 

But a word of warning: these records were permanently sealed and remained so after the events of the final book for good reason. 

This story does not have a happy ending.


	2. Translation

It was early morning before they reached Fowl Manor. Artemis was anxious to bring up the file of the Book on his computer, but first he decided to call in on Mother—assuming Alex hadn’t already.

Angeline Fowl was bedridden. She had been since her husband’s disappearance. Nervous tension, the physicians said. Nothing for it but rest and sleeping pills. That was almost a year ago.

Butler’s little sister, Juliet, was sitting at the foot of the stairs. Her gaze was boring a hole in the wall. Even the glitter mascara couldn’t soften her expression. Artemis had seen that look already, just before Juliet had suplexed a particularly impudent pizza boy. The suplex, Artemis gathered, was a wrestling move. An unusual obsession for a teenage girl. But then again she was, after all, a Butler.

“Problems, Juliet?”

Juliet straightened hurriedly. “My own fault, Artemis. Apparently I left a gap in the curtains. Mrs. Fowl couldn’t sleep. Alex is up there now, calming her down.”

“Hmm,” muttered Artemis, scaling the oak staircase slowly.

He worried about this mother’s condition. She hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time now, and the only thing that seemed to help her was his younger brother. Then again, should she miraculously recover, emerging revitalized from her bedchamber, it would signal the end of Artemis’s own extraordinary freedom. It would be back off to school, and no more spearheading criminal enterprises for you, my boy.

He knocked gently on the arched double doors.

“Mother? Are you awake?”

There were voices on the other side of the door, followed by quick, soft footsteps before one of the doors swung open. Alexander Fowl looked identical to his brother at first glance, same raven hair, same deep blue eyes. But Alex’s features were soft, smaller—which made sense, the boy was only 8. He was dressed in a black Batman t-shirt, a recent obsession of his, and a pair of well-worn jeans. His hair, now getting a bit overgrown, had a brownish tinge to it from the sun and curled around his ears. There was a scattering of freckles on his left cheek—just his left cheek. Some of which were now connected by thin lines from a black marker.

“Arty!” Alex exclaimed, hugging Artemis around the waist. “Look Mum, Arty’s back!”

Alex took his brother’s hand, leading him into the dark room. Artemis followed him. an antique four-poster bed threw shadowy spires in the darkness. Angeline Fowl sat hunched on the bed, her pale limbs glowing white in the gloom.

“Artemis, darling. Where have you been?”

Artemis sighed and Alex relaxed his grip considerably. She recognized him. that was a good sign.

“School trip, Mother. Skiing in Austria.”

“Ah, skiing,” crooned Angeline. “how I miss it. Maybe when your father returns.”

Artemis felt a lump in his throat. Most uncharacteristic.

“That’d be nice,” Alex replied. “When Father returns.”

“Your brother was just reading me the most lovely book,” Angeline continued, holding up a colorful paperback. “What’s it called again dear?”

“’Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets’, Mum” Alex answered, he tried to smile but failed. Alex had been reading that same book to Angeline almost ever since she was bedridden. They’d never gotten past the third chapter.

“Ah yes, lovely story. By the way, we really have to get rid of that maid. She is good for absolutely nothing.”

Artemis and Alex held their tongues. Juliet had been a hardworking and loyal member of the Fowl household for the past three years. Time to use Mother’s absentmindedness to his advantage.

“You’re right of course, Mother. I’ve been meaning to do it for some time. Butler has a sister I believe would be perfect for the position. I think I’ve mentioned her. Juliet?”

Angeline frowned. “Juliet? Yes, the name does seem familiar. Well, anyone would be better than that silly girl we have now. When can she start?”

“Straight away. I’ll have Butler fetch her from the lodge.”

“You’re a good boy, Artemis. Both of you are. Now, give Mummy a hug.”

Alex swallowed, but nonetheless the two boys stepped into the shadowy folds of their mother’s robe. She smelled perfumed, like petals in water. But her arms were cold and weak.

“Oh, darlings,” she whispered, and the sound sent goose bumps popping down both boys’ necks. “I hear things. At night. They crawl along the pillows and into my ears.”

Alex said nothing. Artemis felt that lump in his throat again.

“Perhaps we should open the curtains, Mother.”

Alex stiffened, shooting his brother a feverent warning look.

“No,” their mother sobbed, releasing them from her grasp. “No. because then I could see them, too.”

“Mother, please.”

But it was no use. Angeline was gone. She crawled to the far corner of the bed, pulling the quilt under her chin.

“Send the new girl.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Send her with cucumber slices and water.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Angeline glared at him with crafty eyes. Then Alex spoke.

“It’s alright, Mum,” he said soothingly, holding up his hands as he walked towards the head of the bed. “Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll have it taken care of.”

Angeline’s expression switched as she focused on her second son. “Oh, my darling. You’re not leaving already are you?”

“I have to get ready for school in the morning, silly,” Alex lied hypnotically smoothly. “You should try to get some rest too. It’s been a very busy day.”

“Oh yes, we read a whole two chapters.” Angeline said compliantly, lying on her side. “Oh, but what’ll I do without you?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Mummy. We’ll read more then,” He said, planting a light kiss on Angeline’s forehead as her eyelids began to droop. “I’ll be back. Just rest.”

Angeline complied, she couldn’t help it. And she drifted off as her two sons swept out of the room.

* * *

Artemis and Alex breathed a mutual sigh of relief the moment the bedroom door was closed.

“I think she’s getting better,” Alex said. “We actually did read two whole chapters today. And she didn’t forget the character’s names or anything.”

Artemis smiled, something he reserved exclusively for his little brother. “Good to know. Now what is that mess all over your cheek.”

“Oh, I was looking in the mirror this morning and I thought the pattern I saw in my freckles looked familiar. So I looked on the internet and realized the shape was the constaliation of Apollo. So I sketched it out ‘cuz it made sense ‘cuz my middle’s Apoll _on_.”

“The word is _constellation_ ,” Artemis said when he was finished, now grateful his brother’s first name was Alexander, otherwise his arms and legs would’ve been covered in tiny Apollos.

“Whatever. Where did you go this time?”

“Ho Chi Minh City.”

Alex turned as deadpan as a little boy could look. “You know I don’t know where that is.”

“Vietnam,” Artemis answered, steering the boy back towards the stairs. “Butler and I brought your souvenir into the living room.”

“What’s it like there?”

“Sweltering.”

“Arty!”

“It’s hot,” he rephrased. “More so than summers here.”

“Can I go with you next time? _Pleeeeaaase?_ ”

“Not until you’re older.”

Alex huffed, “you’re barely twelve, that’s hardly much older. Plus, I checked the measuring chart, I’m a full 3 inches taller than you were when you were my age.”

“Yes, but I’m the taller one _now_ ,” Artemis rebuffed fondly. “Besides it’s irrelevant, I don’t think I’ll be leaving the manor again for the moment.”

“Does that mean you’ve found a fairy?”

Artemis paused, he hadn’t made Alex aware of the details of his search.

The younger boy quickly explained, “while I was looking up _constellations_ , I saw an ad. ‘Irish businessman will pay large amounts of U.S. dollars to meet a fairy, sprite, leprechaun, pixie’, and I thought ‘I wonder who this could be’.”

Artemis sighed factiously, “very well, you caught me.” He prepared for the onslaught of questions, ‘do they really have wings? Pointy ears?’ ‘did they grant you a wish?’—things like that.

“What’s that got to do with Father?”

Artemis paused on the steps.

“Don’t tell me this is some sort of unrelated side project. I know you don’t do that anymore.” Alex pressed.

Artemis’s silence continued, uncharacteristically uncertain on how to proceed. “…I have a plan.”

“You always have a plan,” Alex countered. “That isn’t an answer.”

Transparency, Artemis decided. That always seemed to be the best method with Alex. “The end result then. From this venture, I intend to gain enough finance to fund expeditions to the arctic or years to come, and even more.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “so this about money?” _How boring._

“Not money, Alex. Gold.”

“Right, right. Argon potato es, the family motto. What’s that got to do with this, I mean aren’t gold and money the same thing?”

“It’s _Aurum Potestas Est_ , Gold is Power. And the two are not synonymous, especially with fairy gold.”

Alex’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“While in Ho Chi Minh City, I procured a copy of the Fairy Book. I intend to translate it, and use that knowledge to capture a fairy and exchange them for a large amount of fairy gold.”

Alex was silent for a moment. “I really can’t tell if you’re joking.”

Artemis grinned. Transparency was the best method with Alex, especially a double bluff.

* * *

If anyone ever asked Alex who his favorite person was, he’d undoubtedly say it was his brother. Butler and Juliet were close seconds, no doubt about it, but with all that’d happened he felt Artemis needed the title more. His favorite thing about his brother wasn’t, surprisingly, how smart he was, it was how driven he was to learn. Whenever Artemis found a new puzzle or topic to get into, he jumped right in, holding on with both hands and not letting go.

As much as Alex admired this, and as excited as he’d been to help in his latest project, Artemis was still wide-awake and hard at work at 11 pm. Something he felt no one his age should be doing.

With that Alex dragged himself from his half-horizontal spot on the couch and flopping into the side of his brother’s chair.

“Arty,” he moaned, clumsily grasping at the other boy’s face. “Sleeeeeep.”

Artemis continued as though he hadn’t heard him. The Book was proving far more stubborn than he’d anticipated. It seemed to be almost actively resisting him. No matter which program he ran it through, the computer came up blank.

Alex’s gaze slid up, wandering around the room. They’d hard-copied every page and tacked them to the walls of the study, covering the room. Artemis said sometimes it helped to have things on paper. But he’d separated and compared every character and ran comparisons with English, Chinese, Greek, Arabic, Cyrillic, and even Ogham texts. Nothing.

“Are these symbols for words or letters?” Alex asked. He figured if he couldn’t persuade Artemis to go to bed himself, he could annoy him into tucking him in.

“Both.” Artemis replied, moody with frustration.

Alex tried again. “Why do they look like hiroglyphs? Are mummies fairies?”

Hieroglyphics. A thought struck the older boy. Artemis opened the ancient languages file on his Power Translator and selected Egyptian.

At long last. A hit. A reoccurring pictogram of a small male figure was remarkably similar to the Anubis god representation on Tutankhamen’s inner-chamber hieroglyphics. This was consistent with his other findings. The first written human stories were about fairies, suggesting that their civilization predated man’s own. It would seem that the Egyptians had simply adapted an existing scripture to suit their needs.

Alex frowned, seeing that his gambit had failed. “I didn’t mean that _literally_ ,” he said, as Artemis frantically typed into the computer before getting up. “What are you doing?”

“There are other resemblances between Gnommish and Egyptian, just dissimilar enough to slip through the program.” His brother explained, eyes glued to the printer as dozens of sheets poured out. “This has to be done manually.”

Alex’s eyes widened. A small variety of expressions crossed his face before he groaned quietly in submission. Looks like they’d be up for a while longer.

So the two of them had enlarged, printed, and compared every Gnommish figure to hieroglyphs. Almost every one had an Egyptian counterpart. The universal ones were easy, like the sun or birds. But a few were exclusive to the supernatural, like the Anubis figure.

“If this means ‘dog god’, does that make it ‘god’ or ‘king’ in fairy?” Alex asked. “Do fairies have kings?”

“I believe ‘king of the fairies’ is a good alteration,” Artemis replied.

By midnight, Artemis fed his findings into the Macintosh. All he had to do now was press Decode. He did so, Alex clutching his arm excitedly. What emerged was a long, intricate string of meaningless gibberish.

Alex groaned as the disappointment set in, fully ready to abandon the task—as any normal child or even adult would do.

“Can you tuck me in tonight?” Alex asked, vainly hoping Artemis could be normal for a minute. Unfortunately, his brother’s gaze was still locked on the mistranslated page. Alex knew the look. _This book is testing me_ , he imagined him thinking, _I will not allow it to win._

“Arty?” the younger boy prompted, “I need to go to bed.”

“The letters are right, I’m certain of it,” Artemis said.

“Arty it’s way past bedtime.”

“It’s just the order that’s wrong.”

“Arty please.”

Artemis returned to glaring at the pages. Alex joined him, his disappointment molding into resentment. Then he noticed something.

“What do these arrows mean?”

Artemis started, and then was suddenly leaning over his shoulder. “What arrows?”

Alex pointed to a tiny spearhead in the corner of the page he was looking at, quickly noticing it on others.

“This could be…a direction?” Artemis contemplated aloud.

“So, start in the center and follow the arrow out in a spiral?” Alex collaborated.

Artemis froze for a moment. Alex imagined the sounds of a computer booting up. Or chalk writing on a board.

“The computer program wasn’t built to handle something like this,” Artemis said, moving to grab a craft knife and ruler. “We’ll have to improvise.”

With that, they dissected the first page of the Book and reassembled it in the traditional Western language order: left to right, parallel rows. Then they rescanned the page and fed it through the modified Egyptian translator.

Alex bounced anxiously as the computer hummed and whirred, converting all the information to binary. Several times it stopped to ask for confirmation of a character or symbol. This happened less and less as the machine learned the new language. He jumped when two words flashed on the screen: **File converted.**

Artemis’s fingers shook from excitement and, hopefully, exhaustion, as he clicked Print. A single page scrolled from the LaserWrite and Alex grabbed it. It was in English now. Yes, there were mistakes, some fine-tuning needed, but it was perfectly legible, and, more importantly, perfectly understandable.

Fully aware that they were probably the first humans in several thousand years to decode the magical words, Artemis switched on his desk light and began to read with his brother.

 

The Booke of the People.

Being instructions to our magicks

And life rules.

 

Carry me always, carry me well.

I a thy teacher of herb and spell.

I am thy link to power arcane.

Forget me and they magick shall wane.

 

Ten times ten commandments there be.

They will answer every mystery.

Cures, curses, alchemy.

These secrets shall be thine, through me.

 

**But, Fairy, remember this above all.**

**I am not for those in mud that crawl.**

** And forever doomed shall be the one, **

** Who betrays my secrets one by one. **

 

Artemis grinned excitedly, his brain spinning at the possibilities. Meanwhile Alex clutched his shirt as dread set hard into his stomach, re-reading the last stanza. The last two lines. It felt like the Book was admonishing him personally. And it made his stomach roll with nausea.

Artemis didn’t seem to notice, and instead faced away from his to press the intercom button that linked him to the speaker system wired all over the house.

“Butler. Get Juliet and come up here. There are some jigsaws I need you to assemble.”

Then he turned back, suddenly looking exhausted. “Come along, Alex. Let’s get you to bed.” And led him out the room.

The eight-year-old tried to relax. After all, he wasn’t a fairy. So the Book’s warning in now way applied to him. even if it could “forever doomed” was ridiculously vague. Not enough to warrant any worry.

 

It was well past dawn before he could sleep.


	3. Waiting

At this point you’re likely wondering why Alex wasn’t in school. And make no mistake, it wasn’t for lack of trying.

When the spring semester began mere weeks after the _Fowl Star_ , Artemis sent the 7-year-old off to their school in Dublin, planning to use the time to stabilize the Fowl finances and begin searches for their father. This plan failed three days later, when a very tired Alex showed up on the doorstep one afternoon, asking for a sandwich. He’d snuck off school grounds, gotten on a bus, and hitchhiked a full kilometer back to the manor—all just minutes before the school even realized he was missing.

After this, it was decided that Alex would remain at Fowl manor. If this was for better or worse, however, is debatable.

Whether from his father’s presumed death or his mother’s decaying mental state or some other reason all together, Alex’s present issues began not long after the school year began.

It started as a single sleepless night, then it became a string of days when Alex was so tired he’d randomly drop off, often during meals. The infrequent night he did sleep almost it was almost certain he’d be at someone’s door—wide-eyed and slightly shaken—within an hour or two. Alex could never say what was so troubling about his nightmares, primarily because he forgot them almost instantly.

Artemis tried to remedy the situation on his own—which, naturally, only made things worse.

Giving the boy a sleep-aiding tea before bed seemed to work for a while, at least it provided him a few hours of relatively peaceful sleep. However, it proved too effective when he began sleepwalking. At first he would simply wander into the living room or the foyer, but once he started getting out of the house measures needed to be taken. Alex’s subconscious seemed to take this as a challenge. Every time a new security device was installed to keep him in his room, he’d get into a more dangerous area. An automatic lock was put on the door, and he’d go onto the roof. A camera was put in his room, and he’d go into Artemis’s private lab. After one night, only referred to as the Bathtub Incident, Artemis decided to contact a professional.

That left them here, 20 months and 4 therapists later.

* * *

As for Artemis’s current plan to swindle the People out of a fortune’s worth of gold, well from Alex’s perspective it was just business as usual.

After the night he helped his brother translate the Book, Alex was cut out of the loop. He knew that shortly after Artemis and Butler started going out once a month with no real explanation. He couldn’t _not_ try to tag along but being left basically unsupervised was fun too.

 

The first time he just tried nagging. Just the basic bargaining and carrying on any kid would know how to do, with a bit of clinging to Butler’s sleeve for added measure. It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

He ended up sitting on the living room floor with Juliet, watching old and current wrestling matches. She occasionally muted the announcer to give him the play-by-play or to explain something. When he got a good grasp on things they ended up moving all the furniture to the edges of the room for a live demonstration.

Artemis and Butler came home to find Alex attempting to hold his babysitter/bodyguard, a girl twice his age, in a comedic-looking full nelson on the floor.

 

The next time, in October, he tried being sneaky. He slipped into the car before Artemis and Butler got there, got on the floor of the backseat, and covered himself with a dark blanket. Good security man that he is, Butler caught him immediately. Maybe not his best work, but it was the effort that counted.

For the rest of that night Alex was in the kitchen. A byproduct of his insomnia was that he was up and at ‘em at 2 or 3 am, and, lately, he’d been feeling bad about waking Butler up at that hour to cook for him. So Alex resolved to learn how to make spinach and ham quiches—his favorite 3 am breakfast. Unfortunately, the ability to tell when eggs were fully cooked proved to be more difficult than he thought. Even under Juliet’s instruction he went through 2 cartons of eggs before giving up and moving onto another dish. And another. And another.

By the time Artemis and Butler returned, the kitchen was so thoroughly wrecked that it took the manservant two days to get it completely clean again.

 

His next idea was also a classic, and just extreme enough to work. But only a few minutes after he got into position, Butler found him while conducting his usual bomb check. A ten-minute lecture about the dangers of clinging to the underside of a soon-to-be-moving car later and he was sent back inside.

The rest of the night was better. Juliet had to go out to do a random perimeter check, which she brought him along with because, in her exact words, he was “one of maybe five little boys who isn’t scared of the dark, even a little.” She spent the next hour carrying him around the manor grounds on her back, giving him every detail he could ever need or want about both the natural defenses of the land or the state-of-the-art security system. He wasn’t sure why she told him all this, and asked her as much. Turns out she loved watching her brother chase Alex around more than anyone.

When they finally got back he went up on the roof, Juliet, thankfully, was nice enough to leave him in his unofficial hideout. Going on the roof had accidentally become his favorite pastime, mainly because he needed someplace calm to go at the late hours when he couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake the Butlers or Mum up—or send Artemis into a panic. Even if his brother thought it was dangerous, he liked to stargaze, and this was the best spot he ever knew. Most times if he wasn’t doing that he was catching bugs up there or in the garden. Alex liked bugs, no one was certain when this started, and his bizarre lack of fear of the dark allowed him to hunt for them at all hours.

Artemis and Butler seemed to arrive earlier that night.

 

His last idea very nearly worked, unfortunately he overestimated how heavy Butler’s maybe-not-lethal rifle was and the big man noticed the weight difference the instant he picked up the duffel bag.

Lucky for him, Juliet pulled all the babysitting stops by declaring it to be game night. They started with the basic board games—Monopoly, Sorry, Battleship. But those soon became boring, so they moved to card games. Uno was already banned, so Juliet taught him how to play poker. “It’s a valuable life skill,” was all she said. Then that became boring. Alex suggesting going with a game he knew, which led to a very intense game of The Floor is Lava. The older girl lost when Alex’s balance failed him on a board he was using to get from the loveseat to the coffee table and nearly landed on a vase they’d broken earlier. So they decided to add onto her lesson from last month—maybe less exciting but less of a chance for injury.

The two of them snuck up to Artemis’s, formerly his father’s, study, and she told him about each camera in the manor halls and how each one moved, and so on. He momentarily distracted her by asking her about the intercom system, which of course led to their best Artemis impersonations over it. And, of course, he altered his room’s camera feed while she was distracted—after all if was going to be mischievous he at least had to make sure her hands were clean.

Unlike last month, this time he _knew_ Artemis and Butler returned early—the pair couldn’t have been gone more than a couple hours. And the way Juliet hustled him to his room for bed only confirmed it. Unfortunately, she remembered to lock the door.

But that was hardly a problem.

* * *

Artemis put the computer to sleep and crossed to the main doors. Time for a little chat with their guest. Just as his fingers slighted on the brass handles, the door flew open before him. Juliet appeared in the doorway, cheeks flushed from haste.

“Artemis,” she gasped. “Your mother. She…”

Artemis felt a lead ball drop in his stomach.

“Yes?”

“Well, she says, Artemis… Artemis, that your…”

“Yes, Juliet. For heaven’s sake, what is it?”

Juliet placed both hands over her mouth, composing herself. After several seconds she parted spangled nails, speaking through her fingers.

“It’s your father, sir. Artemis Senior, Madam Fowl says he’s come back!”

For a split second, Artemis could have sworn his heart had stopped. Father? Back? Was it possible? Of course he’d always believed his father was alive. But lately, since he’d hatched this fairy scheme, it was almost as if his father had shifted to the back of his mind. Artemis felt guilt churn in his stomach, Alex’s face flashing in his mind. He had given up. Given up on his own father.

“Did you see him, Juliet? With your own eyes?”

The girl shook her head.

“No, Artemis, sir. I just heard voices. In the bedroom. But she won’t let me through the door. Not for anything. Not even with a hot drink.”

Artemis calculated. They had returned barely an hour ago. His father could have slipped past Juliet and Alex. With how distracted they got on their nights alone, it was possible. Just possible. He glanced at his watch, synchronized with Greenwich Mean Time by constantly updated radio signals. Three A.M. Tiem was ticking on. His entire plan depended on the fairies making their next move before daylight.

Artemis started. He was doing it again, pushing family to one side. What was he becoming? His father was the priority here, not some moneymaking scheme.

Juliet was still in the doorway, watching him with those enormous blue eyes. She was waiting for him to make a decision, as he always did. and for once, there was indecision scrawled across his pale features.

“Very well,” he mumbled eventually. “I had better go up there immediately.”

Artemis brushed past the girl, taking the steps two at a time. His mother’s room was two flights up, a converted attic space.

He hesitated at the door. What would he say if it was his father miraculously returned? What would he do? It was ridiculous dithering about it. Impossible to predict. He knocked lightly.

“Mother?”

No response, bu the thought he heard a giggle and was instantly transported into the past. Initially this room had been his parents’ lounge. They would sit on the chaise longue for hours, tittering like schoolchildren, feeding the pigeons or watching the ships sailing past on Dublin sound. When Artemis Senior disappeared, Angeline Fowl had become more and more attached to the space, eventually refusing to leave altogether.

“Mother? Are you alright?”

Muffled voices from within. Conspiratorial whispers.

“Mother. I’m coming in.”

“Wait a moment. Timmy, stop it, you beast. We have company.”

Timmy? Artemis’s heart thumped like a snare drum in his chest. Timmy, her pet name for his father. Timmy, Arty, and Alex. The three men in her life. He could wait no longer. Artemis burst through the double doors.

His first impression was of light. Mother had the lamps on. A good sign surely. Artemis knew where his mother would be. He knew exactly where to look. But he couldn’t. What if… What if…

“Yes, can we help you?”

Artemis turned, his eyes downcast. “It’s me.”

His mother laughed. Airy and carefree.

“I can see it’s you, Papa. Can’t you even give your boy one night off? It is our honeymoon after all.”

Artemis knew then. It was just an escalation of her madness. Papa? Angeline thought Artemis was his own grandfather. Dead over ten years. He raised his gaze slowly.

His mother was seated on the chaise longue, resplendent in her own wedding dress, face clumsily coated with makeup. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Beside her was a facsimile of his father, constructed from the morning suit he’d worn on the glorious day in Christchurch Cathedral fourteen years ago. The clothes were padded with tissue, and atop the dress shirt was a stuffed pillowcase with lipstick features. It was almost funny. Artemis choked back a sob, his hopes vanishing like a summer rainbow.

“What do you say, Papa?” said Angeline in a deep bass, nodding the pillow like a ventriloquist manipulating her dummy. “One night off for your boy, eh?”

Artemis nodded. What else could he do?

“One night then. Take tomorrow, too. Be happy.”

Angeline’s face radiated honest joy. She sprang from the couch, embracing her unrecognized son.

“Thank you, Papa. Thank you.”

Artemis returned the embrace, though it felt like cheating.

“You’re welcome, Mo—Angeline. Now, I must be off. Business to attend to.”

His mother settled beside her imitation husband.

“Yes, Papa. You go, don’t worry, we can keep ourselves amused.

Artemis left the room. He didn’t look back.

But when got out the doorway, there was a wet hiccup from the side. He looked, and there was Alex.

“We read two chapters, she remembered all the names, she knew where the places in the book were,” the little boy babbled, his voice breaking occasionally. “She was getting better.”

Artemis sighed quietly, bringing the younger boy into his side with one arm and led him away from the room.


	4. Restless

Like most bedrooms Alex’s was quite spacious until you filled it with his belongings.

There was a four-poster bed against one wall which presently had superhero sheets. There was a large window on the far wall that hung over a well-cushioned reading spot and would provide an excellent view of the west side of the estate if it weren’t hidden behind the thick curtains.

There was a three-tier bookshelf opposite of the bed, on the first were a dozen or so mason jars of various sizes containing colorful flowers and oddly-shaped rocks Alex had found in the garden. The two shelves below it were filled with a small collection of books followed by maps. Road maps, topo graphs, satellite images, and constellation guides. All crumpled and stuffed together haphazardly, forcing each other to coexist. Atop it all was a large fish tank with a long crack in the glass that Alex had saved from a dumpster some time ago. He was hoping to convert it into a terrarium, or perhaps put a pet in it. A secret pet, of course.

Next to the bookshelf was a desk made from the light brown wood of a tree he couldn’t remember the name of. The only noteworthy things on it were the dog-eared insect guide and a bookmarked copy of “The Vampire’s Assistant”, which were stacked above the wayward pens and pencils and framed by the small collection of figurines along the back headboard—the Mothman, Robin, a squirrel-agator.

Above the other belongings lost to the floor, buried by not-dirty-enough-to-wash laundry, was Alex. Allowing himself to be swallowed by his duvet as he re-read “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” for the fifth time. As he had made habit of doing since Artemis Sr. went missing.

Even though it had to be near dawn by now, Alex wasn’t worried about Butler or his brother interrupting him with a cup of tea. That was what the video loop was for. Besides he’d already given up on sleeping tonight—too many failed attempts.

In theory, Alex could’ve remained in this state for the entirety of Artemis’s scheme—assuming all went according to his plan. But if that were the case, then the come the end of the night, Alex’s story would be over.

Fortunately for the younger boy, things did not go according to Artemis’s plan.

When Alex was about two thirds through his book a loud noise sounded outside his door, so close it had to be just down the hallway. Not quite an explosion, more like whoopee cushion with considerably more bass.

Alex set his book down, spine up, and rolled his reading-exhausted eyes. Some part of his more-awake brain told him he should be questioning the nature of the sound, if not finding where it came from. Another, much more tired and cranky part, told that part to shut up and go to sleep. A third part didn’t care for sleep, it was just hungry.

Rather than be caught in the indecision, Alex rubbed the tired from his eyes and half-way kicked the covers off to go investigate.


	5. Mulch

Alex got out of his room easily enough. Despite the obvious threat his sleepwalking presented to his safety, Butler had yet to install the automatic locks on his door that would prevent him from leaving his room after 9 p.m. So for the moment he simply propped a chair under the knob from the outside, which Alex could easily slide away with aid from a yardstick slipped under the door. It was a simple tactic but the bodyguard had yet to catch him, Artemis’s supposed “fairy” antics had seen to that.

On that note, it’s worth mentioning that Alex had no knowledge of his brother’s plan. He’d been told of it of it, of course, but he’d always assumed the older boy was messing with him. A practical joke; Most unlike Artemis.

But he’d decided to put that on the back burner and spend the moment focusing on the short, stout figure making its way to Butler’s unconscious form.

 

* * *

 

Clasping the safe’s treasure tightly in his fist, the dwarf turned to retrace his steps. To his utter amazement there was a human entangled in the banisters. Mulch was not one bit surprised that his recyclings had managed to hurl the elephantine Mud Man several yards through the air. Dwarf gas had been known to cause avalanches in the Alps. What did surprise him was the fact that the man had managed to get so close to him in the first place.

“You’re good,” said Mulch, wagging a finger at the unconscious bodyguard. “But nobody takes a body blow from Mulch Diggums and stays on their feet.”

“Most say the same about him.”

Commander Root’s threats from his earpiece cut off abruptly as Mulch swung around to locate the source of the new voice.

“Phew, surprised me there kid” Mulch said, exhaling the breath he’d been holding. The human in question was hardly a threat on any level. He wasn’t much taller than Mulch. And based on the blue cotton shirt he was using rub one of his eyes and the too-long plaid pants, he’d say that the blast had woken the Mud Boy up.

“You’re not the first. So how’d you pick the whisper lock? The cellar door, sure, but that thing’s tiny.” The dark haired boy asked as if talking about the weather.

The latter half of the question caught Mulch by surprise. “How’d you know I came in through the cellar?”

“You just told me,” Again, casually. “Plus any other room and the cameras would’ve caught you.”

“Huh,” Mulch said, reluctantly impressed. “You’re a pretty smart 7-year-old aren’t you?”

The hand the Mud Boy was using to rub his eye dropped at his words, and his eyes narrowed in an irritated glare.

“I’m 8 years old; in fact I’ll be 9 next week.” He said, “Now how’d you get into the safe? No, better question: how’d you even get past the hallway without being spotted?”

Before Mulch could come up with an answer to the questions or one of his own to, hopefully, draw the Mud Boy’s attention off him, the human looked past him.

“Never mind,” he said, his face falling, “You’d probably better get outta here, I don’t think Butler’s gonna be in a good mood when he wakes up.”

Sure enough the Mud Man was stirring, the whites of his eyes showing beneath fluttering lids.

Root’s voice crackled in the dwarf’s ears. “Get a move on, Convict, before that Mud Man gets up and rearranges your innards. He took out an entire Retrieval team, you know.”

Mulch swallowed, any bravado he had left suddenly deserting him.

“An _entire_ Retrieval team? Maybe I should get back underground… for the good of the mission.”

Skipping hurriedly around the groaning bodyguard, Mulch took the steps two at a time. No point in worrying about creaking stairs when you’ve just sent the intestinal equivalent of Hurricane Hal scurrying around the corridors. But when he spared a moment the look over his shoulder, the pajama-clad Mud Boy had vanished.

 

* * *

 

 

The moment Mulch glanced back at Butler to confirm his statement; Alex dived behind a nearby table. He knew the bodyguard would be too busy going after the flatulent creature to notice him, but it was too well past his bedtime for him to risk it.

Once Butler was no longer facing him, Alex scurried further down the hallway, soundless on his nimble almost-9-year-old feet despite how tired he was. He headed roughly in the direction the wine cellar aligned to on the first floor; he was still curious about this Mulch character.

Sure enough, there was the dwarf in question, headed directly under the banister Alex was on, hidden under a cover of darkness from the lights below.

Just as he was about to pass under him and disappear into the cellar, another equally-as-short figure appeared literally from out of nowhere; a female with short auburn hair wearing some sort of jumpsuit.

Mulch addressed her by name. “_______ Short.”

She did the same, though it was clear the meeting wasn’t planned.

Alex knew they weren’t speaking English or anything like it for that matter. But something in him instinctively recognized the language and set to work translating it. They talked too fast for him to discern whole sentences, but he did get snippets and fragments.

“Julius… had to do it.”

“… lost your magic…”

“… his safe.” Mulch held up a strange palm-sized book in his hand. Obviously not human literature but clearly Artemis’s.

“… Book! ... playing into his hands…”

Alex barely caught a movement below his view that could only be Mulch opening the cellar door, apparently asking her to come with him.

“…eyeball orders… house.” She replied. A bizarre response that made the younger boy wonder if he’d heard- or rather translated- right.

“… magical… rituals…” Mulch said back, there was more at the end but Alex didn’t make any sense of it before a series of sharp noises drifted down from further up the hall. A glance confirmed it: Butler was getting up.

Mulch and his apparent friend appeared to have the same idea Alex had earlier: run and hide, though he recognized one final word from Mulch: “Retrieval”. The same word he’d said to his earpiece on the landing.

The word seemed to give his companion an idea as her arms and torso faded out. She said something Alex was too distracted to make out and then faded away entirely, her widened grin the last thing to go.

Alex still wasn’t sure what was going on, in fact by this point he was 80% sure he was dreaming. But two things were obvious: first, this creature was planning to do something that probably wouldn’t end well for whomever she was planning for; the second was a conclusion he almost always reached in out-of-ordinary situations: this was Artemis’s doing. 


	6. Troll

Alex had opted to sneak back into his room and slip on a pair of shoes; he had a feeling that being barefooted it wouldn’t be a good idea with how the night’s events were headed. As such, he missed Butler’s attempted capture in the cellar and Mulch’s sequential death/escape. Probably for the best, Artemis needed a moment to review his situation and find some good in it, and the LEP needed a moment to review the unexpected kink in their newly-formed plan.

“So we send in the gold,” muttered Root, thinking aloud. “They send out Holly, we blue rinse the place and stroll in to reclaim the ransom. Simple.”

“So simple it’s brilliant,” enthused Argon. “Quite a coup for our profession, wouldn’t you say, Dr. Cumulus?”

Cumulus’s head was spinning with possibilities, but was interrupted by Root’s brisk question.

“It might be if you could tell me anything about our Mystery Mud Boy.”

The delighted banter cut off abruptly and Argon brought up the video feed from Mulch’s iris cam. Feature-wise the unnamed human was an exact image of what Fowl might’ve looked like a few years earlier. Well, almost exact. There were subtle differences: a fair but healthier-looking complexion (the result of all his years exploring every square inch of the manor grounds), as well as a rounded jaw line that, combined with the still-lingering baby fat in his cheeks, gave his face a cherub-like quality. It wasn’t much of a surprise the dwarf had thought him to be younger than he actually was.

“It’s a bit difficult to say, at least at this point.” Cumulus started. “He obviously doesn’t look like much but as we can see here,” skipping the video ahead to hear “ _The cellar door, sure-“,_ “he’s a lot smarter than he looks.”

Argon skipped forward and paused the video again, this time just after the dwarf’s comment about Pajama Boy’s age. Anyone could tell there was no real venom behind the glare, but Root didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed and his mouth set; he looked far too much like Fowl.

Cumulus seemed to have the same thought. “With looks that close he and Fowl _have_ to be related.”

“Obviously they’re siblings! Or maybe first cousins.” Argon exclaimed.

“’Obviously’ nothing.” Root interjected. “We can’t assume anything about this boy without more info. We don’t even have a name-“

“Alex” Foaly said simply.

“What?” the Commander asked, turning the centaur typing at one of the computers.

“That’s his name. Alex.” Foaly said again, not looking up from the screen. “I just pulled up his records. Alexander Apollon Fowl. Born January, 1992. No records at Interpol… Actually next to no records at all, from the looks of it this kid hasn’t so much as gone to the bathroom without a hall pass.”

“So he’s not a threat?” Root pressed.

“Well like I said, it’s hard to say without knowing more about him.”  Cumulus said, apparently sullen about being left out of the conversation.

“Here’s what we know for certain,” Foaly said, enlarging the boy’s image. “Mulch Diggums may’ve just spent the last minutes of his life trading banter with Artemis Fowl’s little brother.”

 

* * *

 

The little brother in question was currently wondering why he was still sneaking around, after all this was _his_ house too. But because of this, the question answered itself faster than Alex would’ve liked. First of all, the creature Mulch talked to was doing the same, only she was invisible- if he didn’t sneak, she would see him well before he saw her. Whatever Artemis had done, it’d made her awfully mad, and from her view that would make Alex guilty by association. Needless to say it was an encounter he’d prefer to avoid. Secondly, he wasn’t even supposed to be awake right now. The everyday consequences of getting caught after bedtime probably should’ve been a minor concern, and it was, but they were still present, nonetheless. Besides, Artemis wouldn’t have carried out this scheme-gone-mad if he’d thought it put Alex and their mother at risk. Would he?

Alex forcibly dispelled the unanswered question and headed up to the attic to check on the woman in question. It was a fairly regular task for him. Ever since Angeline had been bedridden Alex, like Artemis, would go to see her to make sure she was alright. Artemis had tried to keep Alex from doing so in the beginning, being the big brother he didn’t want him to see their mother this way. But, like Butler, he couldn’t keep an eye on him 24/7. He’d gotten into the lounge-turned-bedroom. He’d talked to his mother. Nothing else had happened and he’d been allowed to go back from time to time. The only real difference his visits were from his brothers’ was that often times Angeline wouldn’t recognize her eldest son; she always recognized Alex. When both brothers realized this Alex began seeing her much more often, fueling the childish hope he was young enough to be entitled to that he could eventually cure his mother. Artemis encouraged the visits, for everyone’s sake. But the younger boy could tell he wasn’t comfortable with the situation; he never quite looked at him the same way again.

Before he could get the stair scaling to the room however, a simmer of movement caught his eye in his peripheral vision. There was no detectable figure but all those years sneaking around the Manor, admittedly sometimes at less than usual hours, had granted Alex fine-tuned instincts at when someone was nearby; instincts he’d learned never to ignore. There was in fact a faint haze in the air, centered right in the middle of the stairway leading to the ground floor. It was something like water evaporation, or television static. And it was climbing upward.

Alex obeyed his first instinct and dived behind a corner before the _something_ could be close enough to see him. Once at a “safe” distance he poked his head out and locked his gaze on the television static-cloud scaling the stairs; scanning and tracking it the same way he’d looked for non-existent monsters in his pitch-black room in the days before his sleepwalking had set in.

Soon enough, the haze had reached the second floor, and not a minute too soon. Just seconds afterwards, Butler’s gigantic form burst out of the door and down the stairs. The only remnant he’d ever been there a moment later was Juliet’s name ringing in his ears. Between that and his still-lingering grogginess, Alex almost didn’t notice the haze move towards the slowly closing door Butler had come from- the door to Artemis’s study. As it moved through the gap and entered the room, Alex followed close enough behind to risk being spotted- stopping the door just a centimeter away from shutting.

“Good evening, Captain Short. At the risk of sounding clichéd, I’ve been expecting you.”

Alex rolled his eyes. Typical Artemis banter. He could practically see his face: straight, business-like. An emotionless mask. He didn’t even need to look, it was the same face their father had always worn when conducting business affairs. The difference was that he’d always dropped it whenever he was around his wife or sons. Artemis had worn the mask since their father had gone missing. It’d seemed ill-fitting on his young face at first, as if the mask were too big. But after two years the older boy seemed to have grown into it. It was there more often too, as though it were growing over his features; blocking any other usual expressions.

The Captain didn’t respond, and didn’t seem to plan to as Artemis continued talking.

“You are, of course, still bound by the promises made earlier tonight…”

He wasn’t really talking to her. It didn’t sound so much as he was trying to intimidate her as reassure himself.

“So, basically, our situation hasn’t changed. You are still my hostage.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The Captain may’ve been bored by the practical monologue, but Alex was grateful for it. The fact that this was a hostage negotiation, with Artemis as the capture, made a lot of new pieces fall into place. _But why are she and that Mulch character so small. And how did she disappear like that?_ He thought. His brain supplied another too-quick answer, this time in the form of the recollection of Artemis telling his younger brother his plans to kidnap a fairy.

Okay now he could only be 60% sure he was dreaming.

“Something I should know?” Artemis said curiously. Well, as curiously as the mask would allow.

“Quiet.” The Captain hissed. Alex could only guess she was trying to listen to something Artemis didn’t have access to. A radio from his guess, but that was just based on her apparent occupation.

“It’s not polite, you know. Ignoring your host.”

Careful Arty.

The Captain snarled. “Enough is enough.”

Uh oh.

“That’s right, rich boy. You’re on your own this time.”

For a second Alex thought she was talking to him.

_Whack!_

“Oof” _Thud_.

“Oh, _yes!_ That felt good.”

It seemed she punched him. Alex clasped his spare hand over his mouth to ensure his impish laughs wouldn’t give him away. But a red tinge still spread over his cheeks. He wondered idly if it would leave a bruise. He could only pray she’d hit him in the face.

While the Captain talked to someone called “Foaly”, he couldn’t be sure if it were a codename or not, Alex learned that whatever force opposing his brother had fed the monitors a loop- which explained how Mulch had gotten past cameras in the hallway. Artemis must’ve noticed the loop and purged it, probably once Butler had gone on his rounds and remained at the same place on his feed.

“D’Arvit.” The Captain said. Alex wasn’t sure if it were his somewhat-functional internal translator or just the way she said it, but it sounded like a swear word.

“You hit me.” Artemis said in disbelief. Alex wasn’t sure why there was disbelief. He’d hit, kicked, and spat on his older brother a number of times in the past.

“That’s right, Fowl. And there’s more where that came from. So stay right where you are, if you know what’s good for you.”

Alex knew he should’ve gone back into his hiding place at this statement, but for once he ignored the instinct in favor of hearing whatever snappy comeback Artemis had to say. He was every bit as surprised as he was sure the older boy was when one didn’t arrive.

The Captain seemed to take the silence as an invitation to ramble a bit more, just for the sake of parodying him.

“That’s right, Mud boy. Playtime’s over. Time for the professionals to take over. If you’re a good boy, I’ll buy you a lollipop when I come back.”

Alex had to cover his mouth again as he ran back behind the corner. He had to admit he liked the Captain, up until tonight he’d been the only one to make Artemis look so ridiculous.

Maybe he could be 65% sure.

Then he heard a strange sort of noise coming back from the doorway. Hollow like a blowtorch but fast and loud like a gunshot. He peered over the corner, thankful the now-visible figure wasn’t looking at him. The Captain was still in the same jumpsuit as before, but now her face was covered by a full-face helmet and she held something like a futuristic gun in her hands. A gun she apparently used to seal the door shut.

Then a pair of dragonfly-like wings folded out of her backpack and she took off down the hallway away from him.

Alex took the opportunity of her absence to crawl back to the door to inspect the damage. The lock was completely melted; it was amazing the knob was still attached.

It was at that exact moment that he quite clearly heard a voice on the over side of the door say “I don’t like lollipops.”

This time both of Alex’s hands flew to his mouth, and even then most of the laughter escaped through his nose.

Wait, _lollipops_?

“Mud boy”?

Make that 70%.

Then the front door imploded, making the ground beneath him shake and his ears ring again.

Alright, 75%.

 

* * *

 

Alex was still on the upper landing when the main doorway was essentially vaporized, safe from the danger he hadn’t yet realized was coming. He spotted Butler as he ducked behind one of the knights in the lower hallway. They were close enough that he had to lay down on his stomach as he peeked beyond the railing to avoid being seen.

The blond teenager slung over his shoulder tapped the breastplate of the closer knight.

“You think you’re mean? I could take you with one hand.”

Alright, that was weird even for Juliet. And being an 8-year-old boy he considered girls pretty weird to begin with.

“Quiet,” Butler hissed. Although the warning wasn’t aimed at him, Alex obeyed it all the same. Shrinking back from the edge.

When the doorway basically transformed into a cloud of dust and smoke, two thought were running through Alex’s mind. The first was _I wonder how Artemis is going to explain this one_. The second was _that’s going to ruin the rug, Mum’ll be furious_. Dr. Allen, the sleep therapist that arguable knew him better than his own father, had once noted that Alex often talked of his parents in present rather than past tense. He considered this a coping method rather than denial.

Then he realized that Butler hadn’t moved. Alex may not have been an expert in military tactics but he knew that now would’ve been the precise time to get the heck out of there. Then he remembered the sixteen-year-old the older man was still carrying and understood.

A large dark blob moved, separate from the dusty haze. Alex didn’t have the first-hand knowledge to know exactly what it was, but his own instincts filled him with enough dread to know that it was some sort of animal. The large, powerful kind. The reflective crimson pupils, shaggy forelocks, and curved knife-like tusks did little to ease the feeling. If anything it transformed it into full-fledged, rooted-to-the-spot fear.

This would be the first time he’d ever seen Butler go up against a creature as big as him, and wondered briefly if he was scared too.

He quickly dispelled the thought. Butler was never scared of anything.

The creature stepped out of the dust haze. Alex would’ve gasped at the sight if he weren’t still rooted to the spot. Butler had no such handicap, he gasped incredibly softly but loud enough for Alex to hear from his place above them. So much for not being scared.

Alex decided to pay more attention to the creature’s movements rather than its appearance. The first would only make him more scared.

The creature squinted against the dim chandelier light, its claws picking up sparks as they scraped the marble tiling beneath them. It sniffed the air curiously and tilted its head, a notion that would’ve been cute on any other animal if it weren’t so clear the animal were hunting.

Okay, maybe watching its movements wasn’t the best idea.

Despite his fear Alex did catch the creature’s head suddenly freeze, its head pointed to Butler’s hiding spot.

_And mine_ he realized.

The creature leapt forward at a speed no animal that size should have a right to, battering aside the suit of armor that weighed more than two of him as if it were a rag doll. Alex instinctively jumped back, knocking his head on the wall behind him, and then huddled into a ball and prayed the creature couldn’t see him.

“Ooh, it’s Bigfoot Bob. Canadian champion 1998. I thought you were in the Andes, looking for your relatives.”

Alex, believe it or not, was well aware of who Bigfoot Bob was. The younger boy was seldom allowed to accompany Artemis on any of his “antics”, and while his brother was gone with Butler that left him in Juliet’s care. While the girl wasn’t _officially_ his bodyguard, she was still twice his age—that left her in charge of the TV. Alex knew more about professional wrestling than he did about math.

These were the only thought Alex could squeeze in to try and calm himself. It was all he could get before he heard two gunshots he recognized to be from Butler’s Sig Sauer. He leaned in- just close enough to see over the edge guarded by the wooden railing.

Then he saw the blood. The fresh patch right on one of the creature’s tusks. He knew it could’ve only come from one source. _Butler_ , he thought in shock.

Then the huge man was flying. Flipped over the creature’s head as easily as Alex would have if he were a pillow. Butler collided with the opposite wall, cracking bricks from floor to ceiling, though he heard a few cracks that couldn’t have possibly be made by stone.

“Come on, brother. Get off the canvas. We all know you’re faking.” Juliet said again. It was a classic line she often said during the matches she watched with him.

_She’s right, he’s faking. Juliet knows wrestling tactics better than anyone. It’s just a matter of time. Pretty soon we’ll be betting how long he’ll keep it up._

The slightly hysterical thoughts raced through Alex’s head, forcing the denial to distract his brain from acknowledging what he already knew.

Juliet’s comment brought the creature’s attention back to her, and Alex realized that as the smallest and the weakest he would be the next target after her. He was easy prey and he was within arm’s reach. He didn’t have much a moment to contemplate that as the creature licked its large incisors and extended its hand.

Alex was instantly overwhelmed by Déjà-vu at the movement. He was quite certain he’d never seen it before but combined with the scene of the destroyed front room and the bizarre animal performing it instantly flashed him back to one of the more vivid dreams he had almost a month ago. The very one that made him scream himself awake in his dorm- terrifying his roommate and the teacher on rounds in his hall that night- ultimately resulting in him being sent home to receive “professional treatment”.

The action following this movement was the creature’s claws slicing underneath Juliet’s ribs, rupturing her heart, killing her instantly.

Alex sprang through the door next to him, suddenly glad his bedroom was so close to the scene.

Alex’s home life wasn’t entirely perfect before the sinking of the _Fowl Star_ , but like Artemis he believed their father was still alive somewhere. The absence of their parent was hard, but nowhere near as hard for him as it was for the older boy. Being the younger of the two Alex was entitled to a childish and maybe even impossible hope. “ _Maybe when he comes back, things will be better”_.

Alex’s hand circled around the large gun hidden under his bed, solving the mystery as to why he stole it from the hidden weapons cache no one knew he knew about hid it there during one of his sleepwalking incidences three weeks ago.

Alex wasn’t half the genius his brother was, he’d always known that. But he did know this: if Juliet died tonight, things would _never_ get better.

As a last minute notion the almost-nine-year-old boy snatched the lamp off his nightstand without bothering to unplug it.

He raced back out the hall and hurled the pastel blue bedside light over the railing. Solving the Baseball Pitching Incident of last week as it landed right on top of the enormous creatures head. It didn’t seem to notice the spray of glass from the shattered light bulb, instead swinging its gaze up to where the small boy crouched at railing, struggling to properly aim the large weapon.

Alex used both hands to squeeze the Butler-sized gun aimed at the creature’s wide forehead. Obediently two metal tabs sprang out from their place inside the large Taser, but due to a slight shudder on Alex’s part ended up missing their target and landed right at the base of their target’s large nostrils.

The creature roared loudly as the small bout of electricity surged into its sensitive nose. It ended too quickly though, as it was just at that moment that Alex realized his action, though brave and served their purpose to distract the creature from Juliet, had only made the large predator angry.

It was this exact moment that the Captain dived in from above, twirling midair so her feet caught the creature on the exact spot Alex had originally been aiming for before it had a chance to recover.

It was at that point Alex decided not to tempt fate and raced around the corner.

 

* * *

 

 

In later years, Alex would feel guilty about running away right then. Especially once he found out the captain had taken both his and Juliet’s place as the creature’s center of attention/highly possible meal- which was basically three seconds later when he tripped over the carpet just off the corner and caught sight of her in the enormous creature’s grasp.

He contemplated his options. He could try the distraction technique with the Taser again, that’d worked before. Only the item in question was still on the floor of the banister just above the creature’s shoulder, where Alex had dropped it in his haste to get away.

He saw the Captain reach for a button on the side of her helmet, what it did he didn’t know- and didn’t find out as nothing happened. Another abnormal situation Artemis was probably to blame for (he would have to remember to keep closer tabs on his brother’s “questionable” activities, for both their sakes).

The Captain seemed to have been as frustrated at the malfunction as he was at his brother, in a split second he heard her clearly say (again, not in English) “Laugh this off,” before slamming her helmeted head into the creature’s undoubtedly thick one.

Alex wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to the action. It was valiant and admirable, definitely, but to him it only made the whole situation more surreal. Before he had the chance to raise his How-Likely-This-Is-All-A-Dream percentage up a few points, white light shot out of the crown of the Captain’s helmet, solving the mystery of what the button did. The light, fortunately or unfortunately, was directly aimed at the creature’s eyes and, taking offense to the sudden brightness, briefly spasmed before hurling her across the room.

He winced, simultaneously shutting his eyes, when she hit wall, making a similar sound his brother’s bodyguard did not two feet from her. When he opened his eyes, he found saw the Captain’s tiny form completely enveloped in the Norman tapestry (another thing for Mum to be upset about). He wondered briefly if she were still alive, and his answer came when a child-sized hand poked out from beneath the folds and landed on the bare skin of Butler’s arm. This time it was the tiny blue sparks that shot from her hand that surprised him.

Suddenly he remembered the very large, very predatory creature still in the main hall, still seeming to feel the aftereffects of the light. After a moment it seemed to pass and it returned its attention to Juliet, squatting low and even getting close enough to align a long yellowed claw with the length of her neck.

The loud startled gasp escaped him before he even had time to realize it was coming, he was just too horrified that his efforts to save his unofficial bodyguard/part-time babysitter/friend were all in vain. The noise itself did serve the purpose of killing the horrid thought. Though the animal didn’t move its crimson red eyes flashed over to Alex’s spot on the banister adjacent to its position.

Terror alone would’ve been enough to pin the boy to the spot, but he could practically feel this creature’s gaze looking him over, trying to decide which of them to kill first.

The minute before his brain could fully acknowledge the fact that he was going to die, however, was the exact minute that the suddenly animate suit of armor appeared.

On another day Alex would’ve noticed that that supposed knight in shining armor was distinctly Butler-sized. He also would’ve noticed that the deep voice that said “now, I’ll show you what happens when someone lays a hand on my sister,” from inside the sealed visor was also distinctly Butler-like.

But he did neither. Because at the time Alex’s brain had decided to scrap the percentage he’d forgotten by now and made an executive decision: this was _definitely_ a dream.

The knight slammed the mace into the creature’s back, effectively tearing its gaze from Alex, its taloned hand from Juliet, and its attention from both of them. He planted one of his feet lower down on the animal’s back, tearing the weapon free with a sound that, in his state, made the younger boy want to throw up. Thankfully that he was still too overloaded with shock to do so.

The knight skidded back as the animal rounded to face its offender. Alex noticed small drops of moisture on the tip of each tusk. Like the fangs of a spider or snake. The perhaps-sleep-deprived rooted thought almost led him to ponder what sort of poison the creature produced, and what in the world it would need it for, if the knight had not spoken again.

“I must warn you, I am armed and prepared to use deadly force if necessary.”

This was a typical, cliché, macho-banter type yet professional warning you could only expect a police officer giving a cornered convict in a bad movie, which was why Alex suddenly recognized Butler in the scene before him.

“Step away from the female. Easy, now.”

Alex wondered how long the bodyguard planned on keeping up the calm police-style instructions to a creature they were clearly wasted upon, or for another matter if he’d even noticed him yet. From his new position the bodyguard was now facing him, but it was impossible to tell with the man’s face hidden.

The creature bellowed out a roar he hadn’t expected. Alex winced again, this time covering his ears as well as shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Real scary. Now just back out of the door and I won’t have to cut you into little pieces.”

Though the line obviously frustrated the creature, it instantly soothed Alex. Butler wasn’t scared, maybe not ever but he wasn’t scared now. It suddenly made the situation feel back under control.

“One step at a time. Nice and slow. Easy there, big fellow.”

With his panic now at bay Alex was now able to see Butler’s game: diversion. Gain an element of surprise and then use it.

As if on cue Butler dove under the poisoned tusks and delivered a swift blow to the jaw with the enormous mace. The creature’s claws swung wildly but only slashed air- Butler was already well out of reach, now right underneath him.

The creature turned back toward him, spitting white shards. Alex made a face when he realized they were teeth- the sight was a lot more disturbing than his cartoon shows led him to believe. Butler slid across the polished wood floor on his knees with surprising agility for someone his size, turning and rising to face the creature.

“Guess what I found?” he said, raising the large gun Alex recognized as his Sig Sauer.

Butler popped about a dozen bullets between the mammoth creature’s eyes. It didn’t drop dead, like Alex or anyone else would’ve expected it to, instead the creature slapped at its brow as it staggered backwards. In lightning speed Butler was on it again, this time nailing one of its shaggy feet to the floor with the spiked mace. From there the manservant delivered a series of hits that appeared random to the younger boy’s untrained eyes, raining them down with his gauntleted hands. Blow after blow the creature came down, only resisting with the weakest of thrashes. In a matter of seconds the once terrifying creature was reduced down to a shivering mass of shag carpet.

And that wasn’t even it. Butler removed the blood-covered gauntlets- another sight more disturbing than he’d been led to believe- and loaded a fresh clip into his gun.

Alex immediately knew what he was going to do.

_I should look away,_ He thought. _If Arty were here he’d make sure I look away._ But his brother wasn’t here to turn his head away, so he looked on.

“Let’s see how much bone you have under your chin.”

Alex gulped.

“No,” a voice gasped. “Don’t.” Alex looked back to the fallen tapestry- the Captain. “Don’t do it….You owe me.”

Butler had the large gun wedged underneath the creature’s massive jaw, fingering the trigger.  But in the instant Alex saw his hesitation he knew he wouldn’t pull it. The Captain’s words were true enough and Butler was a man of honor- plus Juliet was safe now.

“You owe me, human.”

Butler sighed, and Alex unconsciously relaxed at the sound. “Very well, Captain. The beast lives to fight another day. Lucky for him, I’m in a good mood.”

Captain Short made a small noise that Alex could neither hear from his distance nor care enough to guess.

“Now let’s get rid of our hairy friend.” With that, Butler rolled the limp creature onto an armored trolley; dragging it to what remained of the doorway and tossing it back out into the night with a heave. “And don’t come back,” he shouted after it.

“Phew.” Alex sighed softly.

Not softly enough though. At the sound, three pairs of eyes swung upwards to focus on where the eight-year-old was still kneeling on the upper landing.

With no other ideas on what to do, Alex gave a rueful smile, a small nervous laugh, and a shy wave.


	7. Ace in the Hole

Butler put three rounds in the door frame while Alex stood a few feet behind him with his hands clamped over his ears. The door itself was steel and would have sent the Devastator slugs ricocheting straight back at him. But the frame was the original porous stone used to build the manor. It crumbled like chalk. It was actually a tactic he’d borrowed from the younger boy; last year he’d sleepwalked out of the house despite the coded locks by removing the hinges and sliding through the small gap provided- he ended up climbing one of the higher trees by the barn.

Master Artemis was waiting calmly in his chair by the monitor bank.

“Nice work, Butler.”

“Thank you, Artemis. We were in trouble for a moment there. If it hadn’t been for the captain…”

“What was that anyway?” Alex piqued as he followed Butler into the office.

“Healing, one of the fairy arts.” Artemis said to his brother, then to himself, “I wonder why she did it.”

“I wonder too,” said Butler softly. “We certainly didn’t deserve it.”

Alex’s agitation at the second half of his brother’s statement (Artemis had made a habit of cutting him out of conversations since the _Fowl Star_ ) was instantly soothed by Butler’s words. The manservant expressed discomfort about as often as he expressed fear. At least in either boy’s presence.

Artemis glanced up sharply, apparently having the same train of thought. “Keep the faith, old friend. The end is in sight.”

Butler nodded; he even attempted a smile. Even if Alex were only as good at reading emotions as Artemis was he would’ve seen right through it. It was at that point he decided to do what he did best besides beating security procedures: lightening the mood.

“’The end is in sight’? But I just got here!” He exclaimed.

Artemis’s gaze swung to him, seeming to fully acknowledge his brother’s presence for the first time. “So I noticed. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

Alex cocked an eyebrow, mimicking Artemis’s expression. “Aren’t you?”

The left half of Artemis’s mouth twitched up in what could be considered a smirk. The small crack in his usual composure lasted barely a second; he didn’t seem to realize it happened. His dark blue eyes swept over the younger boy, assessing him.

“Alex, how much sleep have you gotten tonight?”

He thought for a second.

“None,” the 8-year-old answered promptly. “Unless, of course, you count right now.”

Artemis groaned slightly and held his head in one of his hands. ‘ _This child is testing my patience’_ he imagined him thinking. Not many emotions could slip through the mask’s filters, and things along the lines of annoyance and exasperation among them. Soon enough, his usual cold composure returned, but not without some effort.

“Well that doesn’t matter, the negotiations are over. One way or another Captain Short will be returned to her kind.” He told Alex sternly. Then Butler, “no harm will befall upon her. You have my word.”

The manservant glanced at Artemis. “And Juliet?”

“Yes?”

“Is there any danger to my sister?”

“No. No danger.”

Alex cocked an eyebrow, both skeptical and curious. The scene downstairs fit just about anyone’s definition of ‘dangerous’. And it was only going to get worse, well… if his sleepwalking was any indicator he was known for having vivid dreams.

“The fairies are just going to give us this gold and walk away?”

Artemis snorted gently, a humorous gesture that very rarely got through the mask. “No, not exactly. They’re going to bio-bomb Fowl Manor the second Captain Short is clear.”

Alex’s eyebrows popped up. He may not have been a genius, but he was well aware of what a bomb was.

Butler took a breath to speak, but hesitated. Obviously there was more to the plan. Master Fowl would tell him what he needed to know. So instead of quizzing his employer, he made a simple statement.

“I trust you, Artemis.”

“Yes,” replied the boy, the weight of that trust etched on his brow. “I know.”

At this Alex’s shock passed. Ever since they’d been in this Batman situation Artemis seemed to think it was his job to be both overprotective big brother and concerned parental figure to his little brother. He often forgot the toll that sort of thing took on someone so young. So he decided to do his second-best thing.

“You know, most twelve-year-old boys play football in their free time. You ever thought about doing that?”

Artemis scowled. 

 

* * *

 

 

Holly hovered beneath the portico. Orange shards of light striped the blue. The time-stop was breaking up. There were only minutes left before Root blue-rinsed the whole place. Foaly’s voice buzzed in her earpiece.

“Okay, Captain Short. The gold in on the way. Be ready to move.”

“We don’t bargain with kidnappers,” said Holly, surprised. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Foaly replied casually. “Straight forward exchange. The gold comes in, you come out. We send in the missile. Big blue bang, and it’s all over.”

“Does Fowl know about the bio-bomb?”

“Yep. Knows all about it. Claims he can escape the time-field.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Correct.”

“But they’ll all be killed!”

“Big deal,” retorted Foaly, and Holly could almost see him shrug. “That’s what you get when you mess with the People.”

Holly was torn. There was no doubt that Fowl was a danger to the civilized underworld. Very few tears would be shed over his body. But the girl, Juliet, and pajama-clad little boy—they were innocents. They deserved a chance.

Holly descended to an altitude of six and a half feet. Head height for Butler. The humans had congregated in the wreckage that used to be a hallway. There was disunity between them. The LEP officer could sense it. Well, most of them at least.

The younger boy that was previously on the banister was currently settled in the crook of Butler’s arm, rubbing his eyes and yawning slightly- it would seem the adrenaline brought from the troll was leaving his system. He was a small child; he looked like a toddler in Butler’s gigantic arms. He didn’t appear to have a clue what was going on. For some reason that just made her angrier.

Holly glared accusingly at Artemis. “Have you told them?”

Artemis returned her stare. “Told them what?”

“Yes, Fairy, told us what?” echoed Juliet belligerently, still a bit miffed over the _mesmer_ izing.

The dark-haired boy hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’d like to be the first to ask that question without the sarcasm.”

Holly opted to ignore him. “Don’t play dumb, Fowl. You know what I’m talking about.”

Artemis glanced upward to briefly meet his apparent brother’s gaze from the boy’s spot in Butler’s arm before turning back to her. He could never play dumb for long, and they both knew it. “Yes, Captain Short. I do. The bio-bomb. Your concern would be touching, if it extended to myself. Nevertheless, do not upset yourself. Everything is proceeding according to plan.”

“According to plan!” gasped Holly, pointing to the devastation surrounding them. “Was this part of the plan? Butler almost getting killed, and your brother being placed in the line of fire—all part of the plan?”

Artemis glanced upwards again as the younger boy suddenly tensed at Holly’s words. He relaxed nearly the instant he met his brother’s eyes.

“No,” Artemis admitted. “The troll was a slight blip. But irrelevant to the overall scheme.”

Holly resisted the urge to punch the pale human again, turning instead to Butler- and, by extension, his younger charge. Through hooded lids the small boy was looking at her with curious, but calculating, eyes.

“Listen to reason, for heaven’s sake. You cannot escape the time-field. It has never been done.”

Butler’s features could have been etched in stone. Pajama Boy, however, was considerably more open. He shrugged, unfazed.

“There’s a first for everything,” he said. “And if Arty says it can be done, then it can.”

Holly already knew it was pointless to argue with him—he was a child, still held tight by the bonds of family loyalty. She knew she’d have a far better chance on his bodyguard.

“Butler—your sister, are you willing to risk her life out of loyalty to a felon?”

“Artemis is no felon, miss, he is a genius. Now please remove yourself from my sightline. I am monitoring the main entrance.” He said.

Holly buzzed up to twenty feet. Alex practically bent his neck backward trying to keep her in his sightline.

“You’re crazy. All of you! In five minutes you’ll all be dust. Don’t you realize?”

Holly noticed the younger boy opening his mouth to say something, but Artemis sighed and beat him to it. “You’ve had your answer, Captain. Now, please. This is a delicate stage in the proceedings.”

“Proceedings? It’s a kidnapping! At least have the guts to call it what it is.”

Artemis’s patience was beginning to fray, and Alex looked disgruntled at, once again, being cut out of the conversation.

“Butler, do we have any tranquilizer hypodermics left?”

The giant manservant nodded, but didn’t speak. Alex remained silent as well, but his was accompanied by an eye roll. He was confident his brother wouldn’t actually shoot the Captain and he was only kidding himself to think of the idea (another crude attempt at humor). A genius Artemis may’ve been, but is still had the patience of the boy he really was. Besides, even if the order to sedate did come, he doubted Butler would, or even could, do it—not after the troll fiasco. Luckily Artemis’s attention was diverted by activity in the avenue.

“Ah, it would seem the LEP have capitulated. Butler, supervise the delivery. But stay alert. Our fairy friends are not above trickery.”

“You’re a fine one to talk,” muttered Holly.

Butler set Alex down and hurried to the demolished doorway. The younger boy turned to his brother with questioning eyes.

“What’s capitulated mean?”

 

* * *

 

“It’s the ransom,” Butler shouted from the doorway. Alex immediately came running up, his drowsiness stunted by eager curiosity, though the manservant prevented him from getting to close.

“Check for booby traps.” He heard his brother say.

Butler stepped cautiously on to the porch. Alex followed, much less so, dancing nimbly around the stone shards that used to be gargoyle statues.

“No hostiles. Seems to be self-propelled.” The bodyguard reported.

Alex leaned in for a closer look and the trolley lurched over the steps, making him jump back.

“I could drive better with a game controller.” He said. It was more a statement of fact than an insult- Alex had harbored a deep love for remote-controlled helicopters and cars since he was five.

Butler bent low to the ground, scanning the trolley’s underside. Alex used his preoccupation to climb onto the cargo hold.

“No explosive devices visible.”

He extracted a Sweeper from his pocket, extending the telescopic aerial. Alex didn’t pay any attention to this, leaning over the side and tapping something along the trolley’s frame.

“No bugs either. Nothing detectable at any rate.” Butler continued.

“What’s this?” Alex asked, pointing the object he’d previously been obstructing from Butler’s view.

 

“Uh-oh,” said Foaly.

 

“A camera.” Butler answered, reaching in and pulling the fish-eye lens out by the cable.

“Sorry,” Alex said to it.

In spite of the load it carried, the trolley responded easily to Butler’s touch, gliding across the threshold into the lobby with Alex still swinging his feet idly over the side. It stood there humming softly, as though waiting to be unloaded.

Butler lowered Alex to the ground again, and the younger boy immediately went back to his brother’s side. Artemis was in a rare state of nervousy. Now that the moment had come, Artemis was almost afraid to seize it. It was hard to believe that after all these months, his wicked scheme was minutes away from fruition. Then Alex slid his small hand into his limp one. Artemis looked down at him and pulled himself together- these last few minutes were the vital ones, and the most dangerous.

“Open it,” he said, his voice laced with the most subtle tremble he had no doubt his observant little brother noticed.

It was an irresistible instant. Juliet approached tentatively, spangled eyes wide. Alex’s hand tightened slightly while his spare one flew to his brother’s wrist. Even Holly closed the throttled a notch, dropping until her feet brushed the marble tiling. Butler unzipped the black tarpaulin, dragging it back across the cargo.

Nobody said a thing. Artemis imagined that somewhere the _1812 Overture_ was playing. The gold sat there, stacked in shining rows. It seemed to have an aura, a warmth, but also an inherent danger. There were a lot of people willing to die or kill for the unimaginable wealth this gold could bring.

With that, Alex finally understood the meaning behind the family motto, “Gold is Power”. Something that’d eluded him up to this point.

“They paid,” Holly breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” murmured Artemis. “Butler, is it real?”

Butler hefted a bar from the stack. He dug the tip of a throwing knife into ingot, gouging out a small sliver.

“It’s real all right,” he said, holding the scraping up to the light. “This one, at any rate.”

“Good. Very good. Begin unloading it, would you? We’ll send the trolley back out with Captain Short.”

Hearing her name brought both Alex and Holly out of their trance.

“Artemis, give it up. No human has ever succeeded in keeping fairy gold. And they’ve been trying for centuries. The LEP will do anything to protect their property.”

Artemis shook his head. Amused.

“I’ve told you…”

Holly took him by the shoulders. “You cannot escape! Don’t you understand?”

Pajama Boy poked her arm. “Even if he can’t it’s a little late now,” he whispered, his hand over one side of his mouth as if to block out his brother.

The older boy didn’t hear him, or at least pretended he didn’t.

“I can escape,” he said simply. “Look in my eyes and tell me I’m wrong.”

He had her. They both knew she wouldn’t say such a thing in front of his brother. Still, she looked. Captain Holly Short gazed into her captor’s blue-black eyes and she saw the truth in there. And for a moment she believed it.

“There’s still time,” she said desperately. “There must be something. I have magic.”

A crease of annoyance wrinkled Artemis’s brow. But Alex’s bleary eyes suddenly snapped up with curiosity. With hope.

“I hate to disappoint you, Captain, but there is absolutely nothing.”

The hand in his own tightened almost painfully. Artemis looked down at his younger brother and the boy’s eyes flicked meaningfully upstairs to the converted loft. He could practically hear the boy’s thoughts. ‘ _Do you really need all this gold, Arty?_ ’ ‘ _Riches or not, you’re not going to feel right about this in the morning. We both know that._ ’ ‘ _Please! We need Mum as much as we need Dad._ ’

Artemis shook himself. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan. No emotion.

_‘Drop the Mask! Just this once!’_

Artemis felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, breaking the spell.

“Everything all right?”

“Yes, Butler. Keep unloading. Get Juliet to help. I need to talk to Captain Short.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

Artemis sighed, his brother’s gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. “No old friend, I’m not sure. But it’s too late now.”

Butler nodded, returning to his task. Juliet toddled along behind him like a terrier.

“Now, Captain. About your magic.”

“What about it?” Holly’s eyes were hooded with suspicion.

“What would I have to do to buy a wish?”

Holly glanced at the trolley. “Well, that depends. What do you have to bargain with?”

 

* * *

 

Captain Short was leading the trolley back out what remained of the front entrance, about half of the ransom stacked on it. Dividing the amount 50/50 had been Pajama Boy’s idea, and unlike his brother he was quite agreeable. The front of the trolley was about a foot away from the entrance when she heard a voice over her shoulder.

“Wait!”

She looked back and saw the younger human racing to her. Neither Artemis nor Butler were in sight.

“Yes?” she asked, puzzled.

He stopped a formal distance from her. “I know Arty never meant for me to get involved in any of this, so if he ever gets into trouble again I’m not gonna be around. We’re probably not going to see each other again after tonight, so I wanted to say thanks.” He held out his hand. “For everything.”

Slowly, Holly took the outstretched hand and shook it.

“For the record, Arty’d say the same thing. If he let himself,” He said ruefully, rubbing one eye with the sleeve of his shirt in a gesture Holly had a feeling she would come to associate with him.

“Really?”

“Trust me, I’m his brother. I know him better than anybody.”

“And you really think he can escape the time-field?”

“If anyone can, it’s Arty.”

She didn’t answer and he continued.

“And regardless of what I believe, he’s family. We’re stuck with each other no matter of how we feel about each other. So we have to show a little faith.”

She paused, slightly thrown by his sincerity.

“Then what do you think is going to happen when the bio-bomb goes off?”

He shrugged, “I’m assuming that’s when I’ll wake up,” he said simply before turning back the way he came.

“Thanks again. And don’t worry, if Arty’s future schemes can slip by our Mum, Butler, _and_ myself, he deserves to get away with it.”

With that, he reentered the hallway and disappeared from view, and Holly resumed pushing the gold-filled trolley out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Butler and Artemis were talking when Alex returned to the main hallway, thankfully his conversation with the captain was brief enough that neither had noticed he was gone. Butler looked more than a little surprised.

“You gave it back?”

Artemis nodded. “About half. We still have quite a nest egg. About fifteen million dollars at today’s market prices.”

Butler usually wouldn’t ask. But this time he had to. “Why, Artemis? Can you tell me?”

“I suppose so.” The boy smiled, his brother returning to his side. “I felt we owed the captain something. For services rendered.”

“Is that all?”

Artemis nodded. The younger boy knew he wouldn’t talk about the wish, it could be perceived as weakness.

“Hmm,” said Butler as he saw Alex roll his eyes and mouthed ‘I’ll tell you later’ to him over his employer’s shoulder.

“Now, we should celebrate,” enthused Artemis, deftly changing the subject. “Some champagne, I think.”

The boy strode to the kitchen before the bodyguard or younger boy’s gaze could dissect him.

By the time the others caught up, Artemis had already filled three glasses with Dom Perignon and a fourth with skim milk.

Alex immediately knew who the fourth glass was for. “Why don’t I get any?”

“Alex, you’re eight years old.” Artemis said calmly.

“And you’re twelve! If you have some I should too!”

By now the younger boy was practically yelling so Butler decided to intervene. “Let it go, Alex.”

The angered boy crossed his arms and frowned, but relented.

Artemis grinned softly, he often forgot how adorable the little boy’s fury could be. “We’ll talk more when you’re older.”

“As in nine?” Alex asked hopefully.

Artemis paused. “Ten.”

Alex frowned again but took the crystal flute offered to him as Butler and Juliet did the same.

The girl looked at her brother.

“Is this okay?”

“I suppose so.” He took a breath. “You know I love you, don’t you, sis?”

At Butler’s words Artemis discreetly looked sideways at his own sibling. Alex met his gaze and, if the onlooker looked closely enough, nodded slightly.

Juliet, meanwhile, scowled—something else that the local louts found endearing. She smacked her brother on the shoulder.

“You’re so emotional for a bodyguard.”

Butler looked his employer straight in the eye.

“You want us to drink this, don’t you, Artemis?”

Artemis met his gaze squarely. “Yes, Butler. I do.”

Without another word Butler drained his glass, Juliet followed suit. The manservant tasted the tranquilizer immediately, and although he would have had ample time to snap Artemis Fowl’s neck, he didn’t. No need for Juliet to be distressed in her final moments, nor for Alex’s delusion that he’d dreamed the night’s events to be shattered.

Artemis watched his friends sink to the floor. A pity to deceive them. But if they had been alerted to the plan, their anxiety could have counteracted the sedative. It was then he noticed Alex hadn’t yet taken as much as a sip of his own drink. He was looking at Artemis as squarely as Butler had. Alex was a very open boy, he wore his emotions on his sleeve and allowed them to play freely on his face. Once again Artemis could practically hear the boy’s thoughts in his own mind. ‘ _I’m going to tell myself this was all a dream for the sake of coping, but don’t think I’ll forget this. We both know better.’_ Artemis sighed and closed his eyes, is was going to take a lot more than a glass of faux champagne at his 10 th birthday to get Alex to forgive him for this. He opened his eyes, met his little brother’s gaze coolly, and clicked his glass with his in a silent toast. With only the barest hints of hesitation on either parts, both boys swallowed their respective tranquilizer-laced drinks.

Artemis waited calmly for the drug to take hold of his system. He wasn’t worried about Alex’s anxiety fighting it, the boy had had an eventful night and was long overdue for a nap—the sedative would tip him over the edge and his own fatigue would keep him asleep for hours afterward. As his thoughts began to swirl, it occurred to him that neither of them would awaken again. “ _Even if you can’t it’s a little late now_ ”—Alex’s words from earlier, which he used to chastise himself as he sank into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

Artemis could hear a voice calling his name. There was a face behind the voice, but it was blurred, hard to make out. His father, perhaps?

“Father?” The word was strange in his mouth. Unused. Rusty. Artemis opened his eyes.

Butler was leaning over him. “Artemis. You’re awake.”

“Ah, Butler. It’s you.”

Artemis got to his feet, head spinning with the effort. He expected Butler’s hand at his elbow to steady him. It didn’t come. Juliet was lying on a chaise longue, dribbling onto the cushions. Obviously the draft hadn’t worn off yet. Alex was in a similar one next to her, curled up on the cushion like a contented cat.

“It was just sleeping pills, Butler. Harmless.”

The manservant’s eyes had a dangerous glint. “Explain yourself.”

Artemis rubbed his eyes. “Later, Butler. I’m feeling a bit—“

Butler stepped into his path. “Artemis, my sister is lying drugged on that couch. She was almost killed. So explain yourself now!”

Artemis realized that he’d been given an order. He considered being offended, the decided that perhaps Butler was right. He had gone too far.

So he explained. He explained the sleeping pill’s necessity, the overall plan, how he came up with it, and even threw in a bit of fairy history. Though neither of them knew this was about the point Alex’s dosage wore off. Alex’s young mind absorbed information like a sponge, he took note of every word and shoved it to a dusty corner or his subconscious to review on another day.

At the end of it Artemis paused so that Butler could process the information.

“Well, am I forgiven?”

Butler sighed. On the chaise lounge, Juliet snored like a drunken sailor. Alex smiled slightly in his sleep, as if the sound soothed him. The manservant smiled himself suddenly.

“Yes, Artemis. All is forgiven. Just one thing...”

“Yes?”

“Never again. Fairies are too…human.”

“You’re right,” said Artemis, the crow’s feet deepening around his eyes. “Never again. To be honest, I don’t think Alex would have it any other way.” At his name, the younger boy snorted loudly—not an infrequent reaction. “We shall restrict ourselves to more tasteful ventures in the future. Legal, I can’t promise.”

Butler nodded and the corners of Alex’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. It was close enough.

“Now, young Master, shouldn’t we check on your mother?”

Artemis grew paler, if that were possible. Could the captain have reneged on her promise? She would certainly be entitled to. And if she did there was no telling how Alex would react. His faith in others—one of his best qualities—would be beyond repair.

“Yes. I suppose we should. Let Juliet and Alex rest. They’ve earned it.” Another snort.

He cast his eyes upward, along the stairs. It was too much to hope for that he could trust the fairy. After all, he had held her captive against her will. Of course it was only _now_ he could come up with such a persuasive counter argument. Really, he should’ve known better: parting with all those millions for the promise of a wish. It really should bother him how much influence his little brother had over him.

Then the loft door opened.

Butler drew his weapon instantly.

“Artemis, behind me. Intruders.”

The boy waved him away. “No, Butler. I don’t think so.”

His heart pounded in his ears, blood pulsed in his fingertips. Could it be? Could it possibly be? A figure appeared on the stairs. Wraithlike in a toweled robe, her hair wet from the shower.

“Arty? Alex?” She called, “Boys, are you there?”

Artemis wanted to answer. He wanted to pull an Alex and race up the grand stairway, arms outstretched. But he couldn’t. His cerebral functions had deserted him.

Angeline Fowl descended, one hand resting lightly on the banister. Artemis had forgotten how graceful his mother was. Her bare feet skipped over the carpeted steps and soon she was standing before him.

“Morning, darling,” she said brightly, as though it were just another day.

“M-Mother,” stammered Artemis.

“Well, give me a hug.”

Artemis stepped into his mother’s embrace. It was warm and strong. She was wearing perfume. He felt like the boy he was.

“I’m sorry, Arty,” she whispered into his ear.

“Sorry for what?”

“For everything. For the last few months, I haven’t been myself. But things are going to change. Time to stop living in the past.”

Artemis felt a tear on his cheek. He wasn’t sure whose tear it was.

“And I don’t have presents for you two.”

“Presents?” said Artemis.

“Of course,” sand his mother, spinning him around. “Don’t you know what day it is?”

“Day?”

“It’s Christmas Day, you silly boy. Christmas Day! Presents are traditional, are they not?”

Yes, thought Artemis. Traditional. San D’Klass. His brother must’ve thought the same, he snorted softly enough that his mother didn’t notice and his lips twitched again.

“And look at this place. Drab as a mausoleum. Butler?”

The manservant hurriedly pocketed his Sig Sauer.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Get on the phone to Brown Thomas. The platinum set number. Reopen my account. Tell Hélène I want a Yuletide makeover. The works.”

“Yes, ma’am. The works.”

“Oh, and wake up Juliet. I want my things moved into the main bedroom. That attic is far too dusty.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

Angeline Fowl linked her eldest son’s arm.

“Now, Arty, I want to know everything. First of all, what is your brother doing still asleep?”

“I decided to let him sleep in.” said Artemis. “He had an eventful night.”

“I see. Would it have anything to do with what happened here?”

“No, remodeling. The old doorway was riddled with damp.”

Angeline frowned, completely unconvinced. “I see. And how about school? Have you decided on a career?”

While his mouth answered these everyday questions and his brother snoozed on the couch, Artemis’s mind was in turmoil. He was a boy again. His life was going to change utterly. His plans would have to be much more devious than usual if they were to escape his mother’s attention, an added dosage of luck to escape his brother’s. But it would be worth it.

Angeline Fowl was wrong. She had brought her boys a Christmas Present. Both of them.


	8. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_ **

 

Now that you have reviewed the case file, you must realize what a dangerous creature this Fowl is.

There is a tendency to romanticize Artemis. To attribute to him qualities that he does not possess. The fact that he used his wish to heal his mother is not a sign of affection. He did it simply because the Social Services were already investigating his case, and it was only a matter of time before he was put into care—likely without his brother. Maybe the one person he truly cared for.

He kept the existence of the People quiet only so that he could continue to exploit them over the years, which he did on several occasions. He one mistake was leaving Captain Short alive. Holly became the LEP’s foremost expert in the Artemis Fowl cases, and was invaluable in the fight against the People’s most feared enemy. While Alexander, who was frequently codenamed “Apollo” often switched between ally and enemy-by-association. This fight was to continue across several decades.

Ironically, the greatest triumph for both protagonists was the time they were forced to cooperate during he goblin insurgence. But that’s another story.

 

Report compiled by Dr. J. Argon, B.Psych, for the LEP Academy files.

Details are 94% accurate, 6% unavoidable extrapolation.

 

 

** The End **


End file.
